Alecks: When journalism cares

by Rowena C. Paraan

I’m probably the last person in PCIJ who should talk about Alecks Pabico.

Suplado, I thought of him, the first time I met him. He would often walk past the NUJP (National Union of Journalists in the Philippines) office in Scout Castor without giving us a glance. I learned later that he frequented the vegetarian restaurant near the end of our block. Maybe he was too hungry to notice anything else.

I met him later at a conference on blogging that PCIJ organized. After that he would give me a nod once in a while as he rushed to his vegan lunch. Suplado pa rin.

I also thought he was weird (I still do). I had never seen him wear ordinary men’s clothes. His usual training attires were a bright-colored tie-dye shirt (or shirts, I think he had more than one), long-sleeved, v-neck dark blue top with a design that made me think of Bangkok night markets, and a another long-sleeved number, this time, maroon. He had a perennial scarf/shawl (Cambodian?) thrown carelessly around his neck.

Then there’s his long, spongy hair. I’ve asked him several times what his shampoo was and how often he washed his hair. I don’t remember ever getting a straight answer.

It was only after I joined PCIJ that I got to meet Alecks Pabico, the journalist and trainer. In an investigative reporting seminar in Iloilo last year, he was great with the participants. I rarely meet journalists who are effective trainers – most tend to read from their notes as if their lives depended on it, others tend to pontificate as if they had just come down from Mt. Sinai, especially on esoteric journalism topics

But Alecks knew how to listen. He was authoritative but funny and relaxed. He was gentle in correcting mistakes, often using humor, and made learning enjoyable.

He was also an OC (obsessive compulsive, for those not updated with these shortcuts). Indeed, he seemed obsessed even with the smallest details. He printed for example the name cards back and front. Which I thought was cool. Participants did not have to go in front or lift the card up to check which ones bore their respective names.

He also always brought with him this huge, heavy bag – a black luggage with wheels that by itself already weighs several kilos. It is known in PCIJ as THE training bag that is almost bursting at the seams. Its contents: reams of bond paper of all sizes, specialty boards of various colors, white board markers and permanent pens red, black and blue, sheafs of Manila paper, boxes of paper clips, scotch-tape dispensers, big and small staplers, big and small scissors, etcetera. It probably had more office supplies than some small NGOs have in their inventory.

That was Alecks. Always prepared.

By this time, my suplado image of Alecks had been shattered. In time I realized that the guy was actually shy.

So how does one pay tribute to a person like Alecks? I have spongy hair, too. Maybe I can grow it long like Aleck’s. Or we can write more things about him – people have tons of things to say about Alecks Pabico, the writer, the activist, etcetera.

But there is only one way journalists could pay true tribute to Alecks — to follow in his path and embrace the journalism that he espoused. It is journalism that is responsible and cares about people. It is one built on his faith, his obstinate faith, that journalists are not a class above or apart from the teeming masses. It is one that insists that by their life’s work, journalists could help shape the course of society, for better or worse. By all accounts, Alecks and his journalism made life in these parts a little better, a little brighter.